


Coward

by Taylande



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Emotional, Emotional Constipation, Emotional Hurt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-15
Updated: 2015-12-15
Packaged: 2018-05-06 20:40:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5430098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taylande/pseuds/Taylande
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She is a coward as she watches, glued to the spot. She is a coward, hiding in the shadows when feelings come into play. <em>I am a coward. I am a coward. I am a coward,</em> she thinks, watching from the cover of the shadows.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Coward

**Author's Note:**

> Followup to TherealKyena's "A Tuesday Morning Drabble." Read that work first, seriously. It'll be easier to understand this way.

Her mother began crying, sobbing, as she watched her mother clench onto her old friend. She couldn't take it anymore, watching this. Watching her mother fall apart, right then, right there, in public, where others scurried about their daily lives, dealing with menial and mundane tasks. Some way, somehow, it hurt her, breaking through the stone wall she had built around her heart, her emotions. Silently, she wondered why it even did hurt, why this was getting on her nerves and bugging her so. She took in a deep breath, being sure to keep it quiet, as she watched and pulled up her cowl. 

Her heart hurt more than the pain she'd endured during her father's brandings and beating. Her heart hurt worse than the time her hand was sliced off her wrist, hurt more than the discovery of a past lover cheating on her and leaving her for another woman, more than when a lover died and was unable to be saved, hurt more than bringing her mother back from the realm of the dead. Her heart was ice, colder than the frozen northern mountains and blizzards of the Storm Peaks. Why, then, did this hurt her, did this bug her? Why did she even _care?_ Why was it that her heart, colder than the coldest of stone, feel as if it were breaking?

_Landrelia is strong,_ thought she to herself. _She shouldn't be breaking down. It's not my fault I have to leave, to hurt you._ Quickly, she waved those thoughts away, observing from the shadows. How desperately she wanted to stride out, stride out and show off that limp full of purpose, to simply comfort her mother. Why, then, did she not do so, walk up, and simply introduce herself as Soraciel "Soras" Stormrunner, and give her a hug, a reassuring pat on the back? _Possibly because Galren is there, and he will probably know,_ she thought, dismissing the sorrow residing in her mind. 

"Min'da. . . I'm so, so sorry, Min'da. You're a steel bar, stronger than anything I've smithed! Why are you breaking. . .?" she muttered to herself, resisting the tears that stung at the backs of her amber orbs. Passersby stared and gawked, not bothering to help the kaldorei woman with whatever had caused her to break down into tears. A spell flared on the tip of her tongue, fed up with the rudeness of humans was she. Glancing at her hand, she saw sparks of a white fire, and waved it away. 

Looking back up, she saw her mother, eyes puffy from the sobbing she had just done--and still was doing--turning her gaze to look at her. Her break caught in her throat, nearly causing her to choke on the air. She ducked her head, unable to meet her mother's puffy-and-teary-eyed gaze. She is a coward as she watches, glued to the spot. She is a coward, hiding in the shadows when feelings come into play. _I am a coward. I am a coward. I am a coward,_ she thinks, watching from the cover of the shadows. Why she stood there like a coward, afraid and unsure of what to do, she did not know. 

Concern flashed through her mind like a sharp, stinging reminder. She gasped softly, seeing she had two options; walk up and confirm she was not dead, or run. Run like the coward she was. She chose the cowardly option, turned tail, and ran. Shame welled up in her chest, squishing her lungs closed, guilt squeezing both throat and heart as she ran through the streets and alleyways of Stormwind's Mage Quarter. Tears formed in her eyes, having escaped the barrier she had used to prevent her own oncoming flood. Why? _Why_ had she been such a coward? 

She could have-- _SHOULD_ have--lied, told her mother the information given about her was false. She could have strode forward, presented herself, shown her mother that her youngest child had not been killed. She could have called herself Soras Stormrunner, started her little illusion, told Landrelia that her daughter was a savior, a savior who rescued a unit of captured Alliance soldiers before her own unit had been ambushed. But no. That option was too late now. She was a coward, and a coward she would remain. 

Now, she knew Galrenthor would question her, ask her why, what for, and many other questions once she returned from her period of being an outsider to the Shadowstalkers and the Moonblades. She would, after this stunt, be neither Shadowstalker, Silverblade, or Moonblade. She would be on her own, family-less, back to the beginning. Shame, hatred, foreign looks, she would get those from ones who called her family. She wouldn't mind, she was already too familiar with it anyways. 

Her thoughts of strengthening herself, bettering herself in the eyes of her mother, those were cast from her mind. That was part of her disguise, one of its reasons. But, there was another matter of her running and hiding. Her deadly, deranged sibling would now think she was safe, able to gain the favor of their long-dead father. Being hunted, shunned by family, this was also something she was familiar with. And still, even so, this was her cowardly option.

This time 'round, she was the coward. 


End file.
